Fourteen Days to The 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books: Day 10

I am blessed with two wonderful children who give all they have to ensure I am protected, cared for and don’t fall too far off the societal curve.

While my son’s care tends to focus on keeping me current in our shared field of Pr/Marketing as well all things sports, my daughter is relentless in sending me emails, texts and messages about the latest cultural and lifestyle trends. She is also thoughtfully generous in gifting me things she believes will improve my life.

While I am grateful for the amazing items my daughter chooses for me, I tend to have the same reaction to all of them. An immediate, “Oh wow! This is awesome. I can really use this.” Followed by a need to read the directions of whatever helpful life aid she’s provided, which inevitably results in my tucking it all away until I have, “ time.”

Such was the case with a gift my daughter gave me at least ten years ago---long enough that I had no idea I had it. That is until a recent reorg of my family room. In the very back of my family room closet, stuffed into a black plastic garbage bag I discovered a Shacke Pak - 4 Set Packing Cubes with Laundry Bag.

For those uninitiated, Shacke is a company that has created a packing system of various sizes of, “cubes” that help compress, organize and store clothes when traveling.

As I unwraveled this packing system, a vague recollection of my daughter gifting me these cubes floated through my brain. No idea when or why, but it had her fingerprints all over it.

Additionally, at the bottom of that black garbage bag I retrieved two clear oversized plastic bags with black print covering one side. With a quick glance, I realized my daughter had also gifted these complimentary suitcase compression bags, used to reduce the size of packed clothes by forcing the air out of the clothing-filled bag.

I am sharing the story of my compression packing cubes and bags because today, I did my best to shoe horn 11 outfits, all coordinating accessories and complimentary shoes and boots along with an assortment of jackets and coats., into one suitcase for my upcoming South Dakota sojourn.

The thing is, this suitcase of outfits doesn’t just contain clothing for my body, it holds my first impression wardrobe calling cards as I meet The South Dakota Festival of Books organizers, fellow authors and readers who attend this prestigious event.

That’s why this morning at 9:30 I started trying on clothes, coordinating tops and bottoms, adding belts and accessories and choosing the perfect footwear to finish each outfit. An hour and a half later, while I felt good about my festival wardrobe, comparing the looming stack of clothing on my bed versus the empty cavern of my nearby suitcase,I knew I was in trouble.

Then it came to me…..the packing cubes and compression bags!

Digging into that black plastic garbage bag, I retrieved all parts of my daughter’s thoughtful travel gift and did what I should have done a decade ago. I read the directions. I next went and watched a Youtube video on the Shacke packing process. Then I took the leap and spent the next hour undertaking a “practice” pack, to see what might overflow my suitcase and have to be left home.

As it turns out of my all outfits, accessories, boots and shoes are making the trip.

That’s right, those two compression bags fit five coats in the space of one, while the cubes accomodated the rest of my perfectly matched outfits in four groups that fit neatly into my suitcase. Beneath them are the six pair of boots, one pair of shoes and a pair of sneakers.

And as I write this blog, I"m grateful for the practical gift my daughter gave me a decade ago. And I'm psyched that over eleven days, I’ll have eleven outfits to wear!

Fourteen Days to The 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books: Day 9

I’ve finally come to the week in which I’ll begin my South Dakota journey.

To prepare for being away from my home for 11 days and to organize myself for three Beauty & Grace Presentations/Signings, one lecture and two book signings I’ve created a check list of chores.

This list details outfit choices and a “dry-run” packing of my suitcase, taking care of my bills for the first week of the new month, putting my house and gardens in order, getting laundry done to ensure I don’t run out of socks and underwear, touching base with various South Dakota individuals to confirm my participation in my non-book fest events and writing this daily blog.

There’s also researching and planning my activities for the five days between my South Dakota Women’s Prison Book Club Presentation and the South Dakota Festival of Books. Last week I wrote about some of those plans, including my interest in attending the Custer State Park Annual Buffalo Roundup and Arts Festival.

As I gave thought to the spectre of this annual roundup of 1300 Buffalo for medical check ups to maintain a strong and healthy herd, my storytelling muse began chattering in my head, reviving up my writer/reporter’s adrenaline.

In short order I knew that I didn’t want to just witness this roundup, I wanted to professionally share the adventure of what I saw on my website and social media posts.

I called the Roundup and Arts Festival Organizers. Using my best Irish charm, I shared my expansive journalist/writer’s background and coupled that with my dairy farm family heritage and my farm manager experience in breeding, training and exhibiting horses.  I then asked for media credentials to be able to get up-close-and-personal to the buffalo roundup and tell the story.

The response of the person who’d answered the phone and listened to my presentation was direct and simple. “You need to talk to the person who issues those credentials. Let me put you through to his voicemail.”

Undaunted, I repeated my relevant resume and my quest for media credentials and asked for a return call.

The next day, I tempered my patience in waiting for a return call until mid-afternoon. At that point I redialed the event organizer’s phone number. This time I simply asked to be connected to the person in charge of media relations. (Old dog….new tricks!)

That’s how I met the lovely Lydia. She affirmed that, while my request was late by festival standards, it could be honored pending the completion of a roundup application. It was at this point my storytelling muse ramped up my adrenaline into a bolder request than just media credentials.

In watching videos of the roundup, I’d noticed pickup trucks riding alongside the horses and riders as they guided the buffalos from the plains to the pens. In the bed of those trucks there were people riding and taking photos.

I wanted to be one of those people. And that’s what I blurted out to Lydia.

Holding my breath and hoping, I waited for her reply. It came in a simple ten-word statement. “You’ll have to call South Dakota Tourism.”

Inspired by my storytelling muse once again, I Googled the tourism department, dialed the number and chatted for a few moments with the receptionist. In short order, she graciously transferred me to Katlyn Richter, possibly the most personable individual to ever work for a tourism agency.

Not only did Katlyn listen to my review of my journalist’s background and storytelling experiences, she commented and asked questions about my varied career, as if she found it interesting. I really liked this girl!

I followed up by stating that roundup organizers were granting me media credentials (ok…maybe my muse overstepped her boundaries a bit on that one, but we were on a roll.) I then made the big ask for a space in one of the roundup truck beds.

Continually-charming Katlyn explained that journalists from around the world attend this buffalo event for the chance to film, photograph and write about it. She added that most request their media credentials and special viewing privileges months ahead of the September event date. Sweetly apologizing, she proclaimed that due to my tardy timing, there were no places left in any of those truck beds.

As my muse comforted my disappointed heart, she also went to twirling around in my brain, trying to think of an angle that might somehow get me onboard a truck.

A cancellation list!

Those were the words that flew out of my mouth as I asked Katlyn to please create a list where she could put my name at the top of those ready, willing and able to answer a 5 am phone call that one of the truck bed riders was unable to make the roundup and I could now climb onboard. Not missing a beat, Katlyn cheerfully agreed and we said our good byes.

The next day, I received confirmation of my press credentials. I immediately emailed Katlyn with the approved application and thanked her for her time in chatting with me. I also expressed my appreciation for adding me to the 5am Roundup Morning/Last Minute Call List. Not surprisingly, she responded with a thanks for the follow up and a hope to meet me, one way or the other, on roundup morning.

The great Walt Disney is credited with saying, “If you can dream it, you can do it.” Here’s hoping between my muse’s dreaming and Katlyn’s kindness, as the sun rises on Custer State Park this Friday morning, I’ll be climbing into a truck bed, ready to do it….experience the adventure of a lifetime.

Fourteen Days to The 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books: Day 8

While there is much to look forward to during upcoming my South Dakota journey, day-to-day life goes on and demands my attention.

My reality today dealt with the fact that when I return from my trip, it will be the second week of October.

In Western New York, that means the arrival of snow is an imminent possibility and a plant-killing frost is pretty much a definite.

While I don't have acres of gardens anymore, I do have a porch filled with plants and flowers that I nurture all summer and then welcome into my dining room to endure winter and wait out the return of warmth and sunshine.

While my time right now is fully booked, I knew leaving my plants on the porch until my return would be tempting the weather fates.

So today I transitioned the porch furniture, cushions, pillows and rug to their respective storage places and brought all my plants into the kitchen to clip, pinch and transplant for their winter hiatus.

Of course, more than a few other of life’s realities interrupted my "gardening” task. As a result, my outdoor-to-indoor plant transition took more of my precious , pre-trip time than I’d planned.

Yet by the end of the day, my dining room was filled with greens and flowers and the promise of summertime beauty, no matter when Mother Nature commands the arrival of wintry weather.

Fourteen Days to The 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books: Day 7

One week from today I will wake up in the great state of South Dakota. Custer City to be exact.

 My morning will start early as I roll out of bed at 5am and into the hills of Custer State Park for the Buffalo Roundup. I can feel my storyteller’s adrenaline already ramping up in anticipation of witnessing 1100 Buffalo being herded from the plains into pens where they will be recorded, inspected and cared for, before releasing them back into the wild.

However, by night’s end I will have switched directions dramatically as I meet with the woman whose invitation began my South Dakota journey. Her name is Vonnie Shields. She is the current Chair of the South Dakota Humanities Council (SDHC). She is also a book lover of the most passionate kind.

Vonnie’s book fervor has not only shaped her life, it has inspired her to a legacy of community service in coordinating authors and scholars for SDHC events and discussions, as well as promoting the council’s “One Book SD” program, where state residents are encouraged to read a selected novel or memoir throughout the year.  Her book love affair is renown throughout South Dakota and in 2013 earned her The South Dakota Humanities Council Distinguished Achievement in the Humanities Award.

In her personal life, this busy lady belongs to three book clubs and that is where Vonnie and I intersected.

Back in February of this year I was on a Beauty & Grace tour of Florida. At one of my presentations/signings  a woman purchased two copies of my book---one for her and one for her friend in South Dakota. At the time, I found that sort of amusing. Who in South Dakota would want to read my book?

As I soon found out, Vonnie Shields was that South Dakota reader and not only did she like Beauty & Grace, she wanted to suggest it to her book club as their September read.

Now book clubs are my meat and potatoes when it comes to traveling across the United States and introducing people to my work. To think that readers in South Dakota—a land far removed from my Buffalo, NY hometown---would be choosing to read my unknown author’s work was exciting and inspiring.

Then Vonnie further explained her book club.

It’s a group she founded ten years ago based on her desire to share books with women she believed to be in need of support and inspiration. She set the membership at 12 and extended an invitation to join. And that’s how the South Dakota Women’s Prison Book Club began.

When Vonnie emailed to ask me to ship 12 books for the club, I was honored and immeasurably inspired. Writing is many things to me, but one of the most essential is the opportunity to share stories that can make a difference. In choosing Beauty & Grace, Vonnie explained that my book’s storyline of women who were institutionalized, often for reasons beyond their control, who struggled and yet survived offered a redemptive element that she felt would reach and impact the women prisoners.

It only took me a couple of emails with Vonnie before I was volunteering—pretty much begging—-to join the book club’s discussion of Beauty & Grace, in person. I had no idea how I was going to manage the trip, but I knew sharing the Beauty & Grace journey with the members of this book club would be life-changing—something I did not want to regret missing.

The steps from begging to presenting have taken time and a lot of communication. Even though I’m a beloved mom and Nana and a good Irish Catholic girl, to boot, the South Dakota Prison System still required that I pass their sniff test. Three pages of information and affadavits later, I submitted their paperwork and then began worrying about any unpaid traffic tickets in my past!

Thankfully, I passed the investigation with flying colors and next Friday evening will be given a pink padge that will allow me entry behind the prison walls.

I’m not going to deny a certain concern over how I will react when those prison doors definitively close behind me. At the same time, the prospect of sitting with the 12 women of this book club and sharing my work that, for months, I wrote by “living” within the walls of an asylum, is deeply compelling. No doubt, I will learn more from them than any writer’s wisdom I can share.

It’s going to be quite a day, next Friday, the first full day of my South Dakota journey. And I am deeply grateful for Vonnie Shields and and her book lovers passion for making it happen.

Fourteen Days to The 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books: Day 7

Based on independent research, book festivals are becoming a national pastime, with at least 70 festivals happening across the 50 United States.

In the case of the South Dakota, in 2003 the state’s Humanities Council Center decided to initiate their style of festival as, "... an opportunity to celebrate reading, writing and the literary arts on a grand scale."

Since that time, the council has become a well-oiled promotion machine, deseminating festival information to the general public and building a fan base via their website (http://sdhumanities.org/festival-of-books//), their highly interactive social media sites, an entertaining blog and a subscription-based email newsletter. The result of their efforts is an audience of over 4,000 book lovers who attend the festival over its four-day run.

For authors like me, who are presenting and exhibiting at the festival, council organizers are an incredibly proficient and supportive group. They regularly email and mail information on exhibition and presentation locations and times, festival dos and dont's and must-see tourist attractions. Additionally, they ably herd we authors through individual email check-ins with specific follow up details.

As a book festival newbie, there have been times when I have had unanswered questions. Without exception festival staff, festival staff, from the director, Jennifer Woster Widman to the office manager, Carolyn Speakman have answered my calls and provided me information with a heartfelt enthusiasm that has made me feel welcome right from the start. A nice feeling for a gal from back east!

After fifteen years of presenting close to one thousand authors, the SDFB definitely stands out as a festival that fulfills its mission of "celebrating the written word in South Dakota, extoling the rich heritage of the state, and encouraging authorship, literacy and reading. And I can't wait to be part of this year’s celebration.

Fourteen Days to The South Dakota Festival of Books: Day 6

In addition to the festival of books, I am excited about the adventures that I will be able to experience in South Dakota. I say adventures because the specter of this mountain state is fascinating.

South Dakota gets its name from the Dakota Sioux Native American tribes, in whose language "Dakota" means “friend” or “ally.” South Dakota ranks 16th in size among the 50 states, encompassing 77,123 square miles and averaging ten people per square mile. Those numbers make it the fifth least densely populated in the union. 

Its nickname is based on the state’s most famous attraction, Mt. Rushmore. It is littered with iconic locations such as The Black Hills, Deadwood and The Badlands and defined by with historic wild west icons including Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull, Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane. And based on the fossil finds that have been made in South Dakota, it’s clear that dinosaurs also once called it home.

In researching my adventure options, the one that I have found most engaging is the Buffalo Roundup and Arts Festival at Custer State Park.

Now before I endure outcries from any animal rights groups, this roundup is focused on approximately 1,300 buffalo and serves as a critical management tool in maintaining a strong and healthy herd.

That being said, the first thing about this roundup that caught my eye is that event organizers offer 20 riding positions to the general public.

That’s right. I could apply to be one of the riders who help corral these regal buffalos. Sadly, applications closed in early June, so I will be relegated to spectator status. That along with the fact that I no longer have a horse with which to roundup!

More than 20,000 people are expected to attend this year’s roundup and arts festival and I plan on being front and center on Friday morning 6am. That’s the time event organizers suggest people arrive to claim a prime viewing spot of the herd as they lumber from the prairie to the corrals. It’s a process that they estimate will take two and a half hours. And that’s only for half the total herd. The rest will be gathered in October.

When I originally read about this roundup, I added it to my list of possible South Dakota to-dos. However, once I saw this YouTube video, I knew I had to be there for what will surely be an amazing adventure.

Fourteen Days to 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books: Day 5

Over the four days of the 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books, there will be two large group (all authors) signings and 106 presentations and workshops offered to attendees. The presentation/workshop topics will range from writing and publishing to the background stories of various author’s books, fiction and non. From my perspective, it’s a whole new world of 60 authors and book experts from whom to listen and learn.

In reading through the festival line up, I’ve selected a full schedule of events to fill in-and-around my own presentations and the group books signings. One of those events takes place on Saturday night. In fact, festival promoters have titled it with the wild west moniker of “A Saturday Night Special.”

The presentation will be a one-man show featuring author, Craig Johnson, generally known as a mystery writer from the town of Ucross, Wyoming, population: 25.

Specifically, Johnson is known as the New York Times Bestselling author of 14 novels, two novellas, and a collection of short stories  that have won numerous awards including The Western Writers of America's Spur Award, the Will Rogers Medallion Award for fiction, the Watson Award for a mystery novel with the best sidekick and the Wyoming Historical Association's Book of the Year award.

The most well-known of Johnson’s books is The Longmire Series based on the character, Walt Longmire, sheriff of the fictional county of Absaroka, Wyoming.  The series is comprised of 21 novels that have been translated into 14 languages and won numerous awards. The Longmire series was also developed into a television series for A&E, debuting on June 3, 2012  as the cable network’s number-one original-series premiere of all time with 4.1 million total viewers. It ran for four seasons on A&E and three additional seasons on Netflix, where it is now available for binging enjoyment.

In reading through various bios on Mr. Johnson, while his genre is noted as, “mystery,” the use of terms such as western, spur, horse, mountains, plains and sidekick left no doubt that his storytelling is flavored with a tinge of the wild west and a dose of cowboy.

While I acknowledge that a good story is a good story, Western sagas have never been my cup of tea. That being said, weaving mystery into the web intrigued me.

Knowing that I would be listening and learning from this accomplished author/executive television consultant, I figured I needed to at least read one Longmire book or watch one of the video episodes. Comparing my overloaded schedule with my Longmire intentions, I chose the video option.

For the ensuing 55 minutes (sans commercials, thank you, lord!) I was engaged, enthralled and emotionally stimulated, from laughter to tears. Sheriff Longmire (played by Australian actor, Robert Taylor) is lanky, scruffy and damaged goods following the death of his wife. Yet his heart is dedicated to the people of Absaroka County. That passion is what keeps him reasonably functional and alive.

The characters around him are quirky and appealing, even when you hate them. Most significantly, the storyline is tightly woven within Longmire’s personal struggles, his professional duties and the challenges of sheriffing in Wyoming, including Native American prejudices on both sides of that racial divide.

The backdrop of the story is perfectly filmed, although in New Mexico, not Wyoming. Regardless, the scenes are filled with minute attention to detail in a land that is vast and rugged. To summarize, episode one of the first season was terrific and I now know what I will be binge watching during my long cold Buffalo, NY winter.

And now I am truly looking forward to attending Craig Johnson’s Saturday Night Special Presentation. Not because of his fame and fortune author’s career, but because of the characters he has created that, wild west cowboy or not, have infiltrated my soul.

Fourteen Days to The 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books: Day 4

One of the biggest thrills of being invited to the 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books is the opportunity to speak, not just once but TWICE! And yes, the specter of those two presentations is keeping me awake at night in excited anticipation.

I am pleased to be presenting The Story Behind the Story of Beauty & Grace on Thursday of the festival at 3 pm on the main floor of the Deadwood Public Library. I have been traveling the country telling this story and know it is a compelling presentation that impacts audiences of every age and interest.

My other presentation will be my first, on Tuesday, opening day of the festival, this time at 1 pm on the main floor of The Deadwood Public Library. I’ve titled it, “What You Want to Write and Why.” This is a talk I will be crafting over the next few weeks, but it’s one I know by heart, as I have lived it.

As I say in my SDFB Author Video, I have been a storyteller all my life. It’s only in the last decade that I have truly understood that telling stories through written and spoken words is who I am, what I am meant to do with my life.

It’s taken me forty years and more than a few incarnations of my writer’s being to come to this realization. In that time I have written diaries, essays for personal reflection and public competitions, slice of life pieces for my Op-Ed newspaper column and my WBFO listener commentaries, detailed profiles for The Ridgewood, New Jersey Newspapers and a number of local, regional and national magazines, voice over and story copy for my WBFO Special Reporting duties and WECK talk radio show, scripts for my 64 and More year-long, international interview project, political campaign speeches, slogans and news releases for myself and other candidates as well as press releases for a host of clients from insurance agencies and national ad jingle writers to a world championship horse farm. And I have penned (actually typed) four books with a fifth on the way.

I list the above not to brag about my accomplishments. Rather to clearly demonstrate that determining what you want to write and why is often a circuitous route. One with which I am intimately familiar and might be able to help others shorten, at least a bit.

The beauty of this talk is that with the caliber of attendees at this festival, I am assured of learning as much as I share and I look forward to interacting with lovers of words, language and books in our common journey of discovering who we are and what we are meant to do with our lives.

Fourteen Days to The 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books Day 3

While the festival of books is the main focus of my11-day trip to South Dakota, it’s exciting to be traveling to a part of our nation I’ve never experienced.

As a kid, our family didn’t travel and once I married vacations were not part of our budget. So, when I get a chance to be a part of different settings and cultures, I grab the adventure for all it’s worth.

In the case of South Dakota I will start out in Pierre, which is the capital located pretty much dead center in the 77,000 sq.mile state. My first event will be a book presentation at the South Dakota Women’s Prison, followed the next day by a book presentation/signing at Prairie Pages. Then I have some time to myself beforeI need to arrive at the festival in Deadwood.

There is much to see and do between the urban areas of Pierre and Deadwood, but there is one thing I am aimed at in this area. Mt. Rushmore Natl. Monument.

From my earliest school memories, I have been fascinated by this gigantic mountain sculpture of Presidents Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln. The surrounding Badlands, Devils Tower and Wind Cave National Parks and the Crazy Horse Memorial are on my list as well.

In between, no doubt there will be some shopping (for cultural purposes only, of course) and a few stops to continue my Bloody Mary Tour that began in 2016 on my 64 and More Interview Project across America and Ireland. And who knows, perhaps I’ll sneak in a FB Live interview or two along the way.

Moving on to the festival will take me on a north west journey to the town of Deadwood.. A Google search of the city defines the name in the native Lakota language as Owáyasuta---meaning to approve or confirm things.
The visitors guide sent in my packet of festival information notes the city has
long been known as the center of culture and indulgence.

What I look forward to in this part of my journey is soaking up the wild west history of Calamity Jane, Wyatt Earp, Wild Bill Hickok, and the gold rush that brought thousands to this area. And, in 1961, led to the entire town to be designated as a National Historic Landmark, for its well-preserved collection of late 19th-century frontier architecture.

Eleven days. A time in my life that will be defined by books and book lovers, but will also teach me about my country---the natural beauty of America’s Midwest, the Lakota and Dakota Sioux Native American tribes who historically dominated the territory, the pioneers who had the courage to settle this wild west frontier and the ways in which we remember and honor our shared heritage.
#lifechanging

#sdbookfestival
#beautyandgrace
#beautyandgracesouthdakota
#heartandsoul
#crownhill
#chickenwingwisdom

Fourteen Days to the 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books: Day Two

As I draw nearer to attending The South Dakota Festival of Books, I am starting to read through the pages of literature I have received from the event organizers.

There are maps of Deadwood—-the town where the festival will be held, maps of the of Western South Dakota---home of the Black Hills, the Badlands and the famed Mt. Rushmore, among many other historic and tourist attractions.

There is a glossy 58-page Deadwood Visitor Guide, complete with a sketchy group of Badlanders on the cover and the tag line, "No Rules. No Regrets. Since 1876.

There are letters detailing the event itself, the author and presenter rules and regulations, contracts that must be signed and returned, author exhibitor table assignments, festival events and a letter explaining all the letters!

Then there is the high gloss magazine which, upon reading, has pulsed pure adrenaline and a streak of fear through my heart. It's the 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books Guide.

This 30-page publication will be handed out to the more than 4,000 people who attend this festival, all on a mission to meet and listen to the 65 authors presenting at the various festival locations.

It contains the traditional welcome letter from the mayor of Deadwood, maps of the festival presentation and exhibitor locations, the schedule of all events and a wealth of beautifully designed book ads. But the primary real estate in this publication houses bios and photos of the 2019 roster of festival authors.

In reading through the list of my fellow writers, I began to see a stream of recurring terms:

NY Times and USA Today Bestseller

Poet Laureate

Critically Acclaimed Film and Television Producer

Emmy Award-Winner

PBS Television Host

PBS Advisor and Archivist

Public Radio Host

Documentary Filmmaker

Theater Producer

Awarded Investigative Reporter

American Idol Contestant

Founder and Executive Director of Social Justice Center

Managing Magazine Editor

And at the very beginning of that alphabetical list of illustrious authors was me. Just plain me.

This was about the time when that streak of fear made its way through my body. How in the world did I end up in this who’s who author line-up?

Sure I was invited based upon a five-star review of my newest book, Beauty & Grace, by the Chairperson of the South Dakota Humanities Council. That had to mean something, right?

And I have written four books, conceived, directed, undertook and produced a year-long video project of interviews with people across the United States, served on a journalist panel on First Amendment Rights at the Women's Rights National Historical Park in Seneca Falls, New York and was selected as the only woman to be a regularly scheduled listener-commentator for my hometown NPR Station, WBFO.

But there are no NY Times, Emmy Award Winning, Poet Laureate tags associated with my author’s byline.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, I did the thing that generally helps my mind gain perspective---I researched.

There are over two million books published each year, somewhere between 600,000 to one million of those printed in the United States. Many – perhaps half or even more – are self-published and, on average, sell less than 250 copies.

Rather than gain perspective, those numbers boggled my mind. How is it that any author, no less an independent author like me, becomes successful competing against such odds? Then I unearthed a number nugget that allayed my runaway-thought process.

According to 2018 statistics, more than 80% of all Americans would like to be an author. The number one reason they don’t succeed? They don’t believe that they can.

When the latest incarnation of the movie, A Star is Born, was released last year, I read an interview article with Lady Gaga. In it she stated her belief in her songwriting and singing talents were what saw her through the years she dragged herself throughout New York City trying to sell her music, getting rejected time after time.

Gaga’s story went along with a wisdom my successful attorney /cousin, Karen, shared with me in 2014. I had just published, Crown Hill, my first book of historical fiction. Karen read it and wrote a congratulatory email for writing such a wonderful story. My response was that it wasn’t exactly Pulitizer, but hopefully one day I would become an accomplished author.

Her reply was immediate and, I quote, “It’s not talent that makes an author. It’s the determination to sit down and actually craft a book that separates writers from authors. They not only want to write, they do.”

There have been many turning points in my life when my belief in myself has carried me through. As my kids will tell you, often I don’t even stop to consider the realities, or consequences of my decisions. I just make up my mind, and I’m off and running. Which is exactly how my book writing career is evolving and reaching readers across the United States. On innate storytelling ability and a sheer detemination to, "do."

And that’s the author that will be on stage and exhibiting at the South Dakota Festival of Books in early October. Maybe not a lot of accolades behind me, but a storytelling author with the best of them.

Fourteen Days to The 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books---Day one:

While I may not be the most organized individual, there is one part of my life in which I plan and prepare---my clothing.

I'm pretty sure this is a genetic thing as my dad was a great clothes/outfit planner. Even when he was working at the Pratt and Letchworth Steel Foundry, every night before he went to bed he planned what he was going to wear the next day and laid it out on the window seat for morning.

I however have elevated my father's what-to-wear planning to new levels---moving beyond my closet to the aisles of @T.J. Maxx Stores across America (whenever I am on a road trip, I stalk them) and specialty shops like Lexi B's Boutique in North Carolina where my son lives and The Dress Shop in my hometown of East Aurora.

There I roam the aisles, pick through the racks and plan outfits for occassions that aren't even on my radar. It's heaven.

I've done this clothes planning for years, beginning when I was a young mom with few dollars and a strong fashion sense. I always aimed for quality clothing, unique footwear and classy accessories, all at sale prices that I could afford.

As a result of my shopping spree standards and some great family genetics, my closet is filled with clothes, shoes and accessories that I purchased as long as 30 years ago and still wear.

With two weeks to go until the 2019 South Dakota Festival of Books, there are a list of details to address. At the top of that list ....clothes planning for the 12-day trip.

Usually when I travel for author events, I pack mix-and-match outfits to conserve space and limit luggage. Not for South Dakota.I'm bringing the big guns! Lots of outfits with fun accessories and matching shoes.

I started my clothes planning this morning with the footwear. Researching the weather, typography and culture of the Mt. Rushmore State, I determined that boots would be
the most sensible and fashionable go-to. So I pulled out my favorite boots and lined 'em up. And my clothes planning heart did a little flutter.

It was the start of a very good day!

Being a Storyteller

Two weeks from today I will embark on an author's journey that will undoubtedly impact my career and my life, as I fly off to South Dakota Humanities Council Festival of Books.

In being invited to this prestigious literary event, there was a check list of things requested of all authors, one of those being a video.

While I have recorded several videos about my books, I have never sat down and visually shared my thoughts about my writing career and my author's perspective.

Surprisingly, it was harder than I anticipated. What exactly to talk about. Where to start. But eventually, with patient encouragement from my longtime videographer partner, Marc Odien, I hit my stride as I shared my passion for books and reading and how the wonderful individuals who read my work inspire me to continue.

Hope you enjoy.....

A Shoemaker, His Numbers and My Dreams

I have experienced a number of incarnations in my professional life. One of those was my time as a restaurant manager, a position I held from 1997 to 2000. The thing I enjoyed most about that job was the people who came through the door each day, some who eventually transitioned from dining patrons to valued friends.

One of those friends from that time is a gentleman who works as a shoemaker. Over the years this cobbler has continuously CPR’d my most comfy pair of high heels, revitalized my winter-worn boots and salvaged a variety of my purses and wallets

But that’s not all.

Whenever I bring this shoe craftsman my latest leather calamity, we fully debate the merit of my repair and then  spend anywhere from a few minutes to an hour in conversation.

Our topics can cover books, religion, spirituality, family, friendship love, life and even death. Meaningful topics that fall far from a shoemaker’s traditional realm of heels and soles.

The other day I stopped at my shoemaker’s shop with a brown bag of my latest leather repair odds and ends---one suede boot with a ripped lining and a purse with a broken shoulder strap.

Engaging in our usual repair deliberation, my shoemaker decreed the boot would have to be assigned to his, “to-do” shelf. My purse, however, he could repair on the spot. I agreed to his terms and he immediately went to work, reuniting the purse’s shoulder strap and bag. And as he did, we talked.

Our chat began with his review of my latest book, Beauty & Grace. As he stitched and clipped, he told me that in making his way through the middle of the book, he found it painfully difficult to read.

I struggled a bit with his feedback until he explained that his reading challenge was related specifically to a character I’d created by the name of Janna Mazury.

It seems that the name of my shoemaker’s mother was the same as my Beauty & Grace character. Additionally, he said the painful life circumstances I’d assigned to my fictional Janna were many of the same challenges his mother had endured throughout her life.

It was a compelling thread of conversation that fostered tear-filled eyes on both sides of his shoe repair counter.

By the time we finished our book chat, my purse was again whole and the shoemaker began filling out a claim ticket for the single boot I was leaving behind. That’s when our conversation took a most unexpected turn —-one in which he led me into an intriguing world of numbers.

He began by asking my birthdate.

Giving him the two digit month and date along with the full year, the shoemaker wrote down the eight figures. He then began scribbling calculations underneath them as if he were solving a calculus equation. Mystified, I watched and did my best to follow the mathematics, to little avail.

It was only as he began writing words in concert with his computations that I understood he was assigning a value to the numbers—-figures he’d derived from my birthdate. He then began translating those values into words, explaining that they defined my being.

He called it numerology.

I’d heard the term before but never paid attention to the concept. At that point, I wasn’t sure I wanted to start paying attention either. There was something about the various ways he moved the numbers around that made me a bit of a Doubting Thomas….until he got to the words.

Translating the jumble of figures and letters, he explained that he’d arrived at a trio of numbers, the first of which defined the foundation of my being----spirituality—-my soul. The second number he said defined the part of me that my foundation supports--- my heart. The third number he termed my strength---communication.

My shoemaker friend then began counting the numbers of letters in my name.

Following another round of mathematical gymnastics, he mined the word “creativity” from my first name and “prosperity” from my middle name, this time adding an infinity symbol to his translation. He then decreed that as long as I use my spirituality/soul and my heart to communicate, I will always be able to make my dreams come true.

I’ve spent the last few days rolling my shoemaker friend’s numbers and words around in my mind, I’ve come to realize their accuracy and almost-startling description of who I am and what I do.

Yet, it’s the suggestion of staying true to those tenets as a direct path to my life’s dreams that has give me a whole new faith in my work.

Telling my stories with heart and soul is the only thing I know—-the way to fulfill my life’s purpose. And I’m grateful to my shoemaker and his numbers for reminding me of the importance of believing in myself to achieve my storytelling dreams

The Unbreakable Bond of Irish Music

Twenty years ago I attended my first Buffalo Irish Festival

At that time, the festival was held at a restaurant on the downtown shores of Lake Erie that easily accommodated the wealth of Irish dancers, singers, musicians, vendors and food purveyors celebrating the Emerald Isle with thousands of Irish revelers….and those who wished they were!

One of the primary reasons I attended that year was the line-up of musicians performing throughout the three-day event. Being of Irish Descent, I’m a sucker for a ditty filled with fiddles, uilleann pipes, Bahrains, penny whistles or a well-played set of spoons.

It’s a passion I come by honestly as I grew up in a house where my mother’s Dennis Day’s Irish Favorites and Bing Crosby’s Shamrocks and Shillelaghs albums were played right along with my dad’s Frank Sinatra and Judy Garland collections.

It was, in fact, my mother’s devotion to Irish music that connected me with a duo of Irish singers/ musicians----brothers actually. Our introduction came about on March 12, 1999, the day my mother passed.

Being an only child, I was in charge of planning her funeral. While she hadn’t left specific instructions, I was determined that Irish music would be part of our family’s celebration of her life.

The main problem with my plan was that my mother’s funeral was set for March 15th, smack in the middle of St. Patrick’s High Holy Week. So it came as little surprise that every Irish band, duo and singer in Western New York was already booked.

The chances of me finding someone to perform Irish music at my mother’s funeral were seemingly slim and none. Then someone told me to call these Irish musician / brothers from Rochester.

With fingers crossed, I made the call and pled my case. With a time adjustment on my side and some creative scheduling on theirs, the brothers agreed to play the music for my mother’s funeral, beginning at the church through to the procession to the adjacent gravesite and at the “Irish wake” we held afterwards for family and friends at my home. By the end of that day of memories and mourning, the musical brothers John and Joe Dady, had officially become part of my family.

For years after my mother’s funeral I remained connected to The Dady Brothers traveling to concerts whenever they performed in Western New York.

With the advent of Facebook, Joe, John and I became “friends,” allowing us to stay in touch through good times and bad---the brothers’ annual trips to Ireland, the birth of my grandchildren, Joe’s heart attack and stroke, the passing of my father, the successful debut of a play using their original music, the publication of my books (especially Crown Hill that Joe read and loved), the addition of a recording studio in Joe's home where we talked about creating audio versions of my books. We celebrated. We mourned. and whenever we gathered in the name of Irish music, we reinforced our bond.

I continued to go to the Buffalo Irish Festival for years, timing my attendance with the Dady Brothers’ performances. It came to be a tradition within our “family.” That is until this year.

In the spring, Joe wrote a Facebook post that I can only imagine was close to impossible. In it he told all that he had been diagnosed with leukemia. Heavy chemotherapy followed by an injection of stem cells was the most aggressive and hopeful treatment. The challenge was finding a matching donor for the cells.

As in all good stories, John tested as a perfect match for his brother and without question, volunteered to undergo the surgery.

On April 24th, 2019, Joe received an infusion of life from John. Despite all efforts to the good, less than a month later Joe’s spirit gave up the fight and he passed.

Now it is August…time for the Buffalo Irish Festival. I am not attending this year. Somehow without Joe and John Dady, it was a bit too painful.

However, I decided to take Beauty & Grace to the festival as an exhibitor and share the book’s story of one of the main characters, Teagan Cormick, a young girl from Queenstown, County Cork.

And as I sit at my exhibitor’s table and talk about Teagan and Ireland, as Irish music from the festival stages filteri in and around me, I have no doubt that Joe Dady is here in spirit, fiddle in hand, a good story at the ready.

Is breá liom agus cailleann tú mo chara.

Written at the Buffalo Irish Festival Opening Day
Friday, September 24, 2019
In honor and memory of Joseph Bernard Dady 
1/8/1958-5/18/2019

Behind the Scenes of an Indie Author's World

I love meeting readers and telling the stories of my books but as an Indie Author, there is so much more that goes in to scheduling, promoting and executing those presentations and signings.

There are hours spent writing website blogs and social media posts, editing images to capture the essence of my author/reader experiences, answering emails from readers and for book orders, packaging books and mailing them, keeping track of my four-book inventory and ordering more as I need them.

Then there's creating support promotional items such as bookmarks and flyers, researching bookstores and book groups that might be interested in scheduling one of my presentations/signings, figuring out unique ways to engage those stores and groups, keeping my roller suitcase filled with copies of all four books, a cash box of money to make change, credit card swipers and lots of pens for signing and.... ultimately.....tracking all of my presentations/signings and making sure I don't miss even one (thank goodness that hasn't happened---YET!)

Oh, and did I mention, carving out the time to write a book or two?!

The latest of my Indie author tasks is something I have wanted to do for years, but never felt that it was a wise investment. However, after receiving an invitation from The South Dakota Humanities Council Book Festival to present and exhibit my work, I finally took the leap. I ordered a promotional author banner to include in my display at book festivals and fairs.

Thank you Adrienne Carr Sparks and Holly L. Soderstrom Lorincz for your feedback and advice on my banner layout and design. And special thanks to Kayleigh Schaefer at On The Mark Signs for your time and talents in creating this banner that looks great and doesn't make me feel too uncomfortable being pictured at the top of a 7-foot display!

A Play A Memory and a Whole New World

I had the good fortune to graduate from Mt. St. Mary Academy where, to this day, arts as well as sciences are equally valued as integral parts of a high school education. That fact is underscored not only in the classroom, but in extracurricular activities, one of the most prominent being my alma mater’s annual senior play.

The play that my class of ‘69 staged was the wonderfully romantic, Lerner and Loewe's, "Brigadoon." It was a memorable experience on a number of levels, which has kept the musical close in my heart ever since.

Recently, I was reminded of my youthful thespian experience as my granddaughter and I celebrated her 13th birthday.  For years we have maintained a tradition of going to dinner and the theater in honor of her special day. When Brigadoon came up on my Shaw Festival Google, my only decisions were which date and what time to choose.

Over our pre-theater dinner, the new-teen and I discussed the play’s characters, the music, Lerner and Loewe and my senior class experience as the onstage leader of one of Brigadoon’s Scottish Clans, The MacLarens. I also tried to explain the storyline to my sweet grandchild, which I must admit sounded a bit dated even to me, some 70 years after the musical’s Broadway debut.

That being said, I had faith that no matter the passage of time, once we were settled in our seats, the fantasy love story would engage us both.

 It was on our post-dinner stroll to the theater that our Brigadoon chat took an unexpected turn. It started when I had a flashback to my senior play experience. Since the Mount is a young-woman-only academy, the male roles in their plays are filled by actors from area all-male and co-ed schools. As it turned out, in Brigadoon, the lead role of Tommy Albright was filled by a senior from nearby Canisius High School.

Bruce was the young man’s name and, as memory recalls, he was as kind and sweet as he was talented and handsome. He was also African American, a reality that made no difference to anyone in our cast, class or school. It was simply a matter of fact.

Throughout weeks into months of rehearsals, Bruce and I became friends. We chatted, joked and enjoyed each other’s company. And, as teenage girls will do, I became smitten.

I was not the only Mountie to feel this way about Bruce. He was popular with all my classmates and the hot topic of many senior class conversations. What ramped up those conversations was the fact that as our Brigadoon performances drew near, so too did the Canisius High School date dance.

Which lucky girl was Bruce going to ask?

Speculation ran rampant with daily updates spreading like wildfire. This seems like an appropriate moment to mention that while I was a popular girl among my peers, I never qualified as the ultimate dream date for most guys. I was tall, talkative, and politically and socially opinionated. I was also surrounded by fellow Mounties who were model gorgeous and sophisticated. All of which meant I was not on anyone’s top ten list of date dance options for our “Brigadoon” leading man…including my own.

One day at rehearsal, Bruce found me in the hallway outside the backstage door. As always, we talked and laughed with ease. Then, out of nowhere, he asked if I’d like to go the date dance with him.

I was so shocked that, to this day, I’m not exactly sure how I replied, other than I know I said yes…followed no doubt by Snoopy happy dancing once he walked away.

Of course, word quickly circulated throughout rehearsal that I was Bruce’s date of choice. Suddenly I was seen differently….pretty, appealing, someone a boy like Bruce could like.

To be honest, I’m not sure if that perception was within my class, or myself. Perhaps both. All I knew was that unexpectedly and out of nowhere, I’d become THAT girl, the pretty and popular variety of my classmates that I’d been admiring all through those turbulent teen years.

Later that night, I patiently waited through my parent’s dinner conversation about work and the world before broaching the subject of my date dance invite. My father and mother were both professionals in their fields. Work was their primary focus. I was an only child that they loved by allotting me enough time outside of their jobs to get me raised and on my way.

As far as their rules about my social life, there were few activities they approved outside of scouts and school groups. Dating and boys bordered on taboo. As we finished our meal, I offered a silent prayer and delicately began my ask to attend the date dance with Bruce.

I can’t tell you exactly how that night unfolded, but somewhere along the way I told my parents of Bruce’s heritage. That’s when our conversation completely shut down. My mother and father were not interested in knowing anything else. I would never be allowed to go out with, “a black boy”.

 I was devastated. It never occurred to me that Bruce’s skin color or genes could outweigh the value of his heart and soul. He was kind, funny, sweet and he liked me enough above all other girls in my class to ask me to the dance. That was all that mattered to me.

Later that night when Bruce called to make plans for our date, I answered the phone with my parents standing around me like a human prison wall. Through tears, I told Bruce I was sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to go to the dance with him. I didn’t say anything more. I didn’t have to. We both knew why.

The next day at rehearsal life went on, but it was different. Bruce and I didn’t share our backstage chats and jokes and once word got out that I was no longer his date, my classmates veered slightly from my path.

No one knew what to say or how to handle the racism that had clearly invaded our magical Brigadoon world. Worse, for months afterwards, I was heartbroken over the friendship that was destroyed and filled with shame that my parent’s prejudice had been the destructive weapon.

 As I shared those memories of the story with my granddaughter, she asked only one question. “Why Nana? Why did your parents do that?”  It was in that moment that gratitude replaced my resurrected feelings of shame as I realized my family had moved on from a world of selective racism into a world of diversity, a world of colors and choices. And the idea of eliminating good people from our lives due to heritage, skin color or gender has become unimaginable to all of us.

That’s exactly what I told my granddaughter as the curtain to Brigadoon began to rise. And as the play unfolded I realized that despite its antiquated, romantic, storyline, on this particular night, Mr. Lerner and Mr. Lowe’s music and words were offering a much greater meaning.

A Writers Festival, Facebook and a Forty-Three-Year Dream

I have been a storyteller all of my life, a journalist/professional writer for 43 years and an author since my first book, Chicken Wing Wisdom, published in 2005. That's a lot of words and a long time to work towards my dream of becoming a nationally recognized author/speaker.

Yesterday I realized that I am achieving my dream thanks to the South Dakota Humanities Council Festival of Books.

For those unfamiliar, the festival was started in 2002 and has become the state's premier annual literary event, drawing around 4,000 attendees and showcasing more than 50 distinguished authors, scholars, and publishers.

Everytime I read that description, I pinch myself, realizing that those last nine words include me.

To help promote the event, festival organizers ask participating authors to donate one of their books to give away to interested readers. A random drawing on the festival's Facebook page is the process, with people winning by commenting on a book's post that they would like to read it.

Yesterday was the giveaway for Beauty & Grace.

To be honest, I was a bit nervous. What if no one wanted to read a book they'd never heard of, by an author from a state thousands of miles away?

One hundred and seventy three comments and 82 shares later, I learned that my fears were needless. Yet it was one comment by a woman from Sioux Falls, South Dakota that truly made my day.

"Heard it's a great book."

Beverly Alexander, I don't know how or where you heard that Beauty & Grace is, "...a great book," but I am thrilled---not only for that acknowlegement of my work, but for the validation that state by state, reader by reader, book by book, 43-years of writing words and telling stories is turning my dream into my life's reality.

From the depths of my writer’s heart and soul, thank you.

One Book Club at a Time

Building audience is tough for an independent author.

Every day you have to figure out a new way to engage and encourage readers to choose your books over a million other published authors, many of whom are more famous and also have publishers/agents promoting them.

What that means is hours of brainstorming creative ideas to engage readers and executing them in ways you hope the world will find as clever as you imagined them in your mind!

At the same time, you can't rest on your laurels as the fans you have worked so hard to earn are ready and excited to read your next book. And while writing is definitely my passion, it takes discipline to carve out time each day to sit and write a novel--- to imagine unknown people, places and events and craft them into a story you hope readers will relate to and enjoy---but may not.

Then comes the day when you decide to raise the stakes and extend your author's reach from local to regional and national audiences.

While such a bold idea is attainable thanks to the Internet and the worldwide reach of social media, there is no doubt that unless Oprah Winfrey or Reese Witherspoon or Shondra Rhimes waves their magic book club wand your way, it's a daunting task.

That being said, there is no greater reward for facing such challenges than receiving an email from someone in one of the many states where you've journeyed, with your suitcase of books and bookmarks, who has attended your presentation, read your book and loved it and would like to invite you to return to their community and do it all over again for a new group of readers.

Thank you Mary Mills for your support of my work and your passion for my storytelling. You are fulfilling my author's dream as I imagined it four years ago--- connecting with book clubs across America and, through them, expanding my readership, one book club at a time.

With cherished memories of meeting you at Margi’s book club (pictured here from my 2018 Indy Presentation) I look forward to returning to Indianapolis in 2020 and sharing the Beauty & Grace Journey with you and your book club members.

A Place Where I Belong

Growing up as an only child of working parents, I spent countless hours on my own---reading books, listening to music and watching movies. Somewhere in the midst of all that multimedia stimulation, I found a place where I belonged.

I fully envisioned and formed friendships with characters from Nancy Drew to Scarlett O’Hara. I harmonized lyrics with Julie Andrews and Joan Baez. I dressed up in my mother’s satin wedding gown and made dramatic entrances down the stairs channeling Vivien Leigh and Bette Davis. And all of it was made real within my imaginings.

While my imagination helped filled a void in my latch-key life, it also helped me develop a storytelling skill that made me stand out---in the hallway at school, in time-out at home---where ever adults would banish me to try and help me understand that, unlike fictional performance arts, not every story in real life needs to be told!

The thing is, telling the story of my life is second nature to me. While I have learned that there are boundaries, people who read my newspaper columns, blogs and books have clearly let me know that sharing my story details, both joyous and painful, are why they connect to my writing. Why my words have meaning.

I’ve been thinking about the evolution of my storytelling skills as I am preparing to do something which, before now, only happened amid the privacy of my adolescent bedroom in the recesses of my mind. One week from tonight I will step on stage at The Cell Theatre, located in the mecca of all performance arts, New York City.

No, I’m not taking a behind the scenes tour or interviewing the theater’s manager.  In fact, I have been invited by theater producer, Charles R. Hale to perform in his Artists Without Walls Showcase on this Manhattan theater stage. I will be reading from the pages of my newest book, Beauty & Grace.

Needless to say, I am practicing and editing my reading and praying novenas to Mary Mother of God that I don’t screw up this momentous opportunity. I’m also putting together different outfits every night to try and figure out if I’m going glam or classic author.

Most importantly, I am doing my best to fully embrace and celebrate this moment in my life, understanding that storytelling is part of my DNA. And, as I learned at a very young age, it is a place where I truly do belong.

The Beauty & Grace Quilt

Today as I started to write a post in search of book lovers in Philadelphia and San Diego who are interested in gathering for a Beauty & Grace Presentation, it struck me how lucky I have been with this book.

Since launching Beauty & Grace, I have enjoyed the support and hospitality of people throughout Western New York as well as in Indianpolis, the Greater Porlland Oregon area, Winter Garden, Oakland and St. Augustine Florida, Denver, Colorado and, come this October, Deadwood, South Dakota.

Some of these people I have known, while others have been complete strangers willing to take a chance on me and my book.

These photographs represent those who have been an integral part of the Beauty & Grace journey to date. Their support has been humbling. It's also been thrilling and inspires me to keep reaching out and adding to this amazing quilt of women and men.

To those pictured and those yet to come, thank you. from the depth of my heart and soul.